The Company

Chapter 25: Baize Brush

The Boss lowered his head and gazed quietly at the light brown papyrus scroll spread open on the counter, still faintly catching the musty odor of decay from this ancient sheet. For someone who frequently handled antiquities, such mildew scents were utterly commonplace, yet this time, the lingering aroma around him brought an inexplicable sense of suffocation, making it hard to breathe.

Two months had passed since returning from Egypt, and he had spent nearly every day in such a daze. The Book of the Dead, a legendary artifact said to summon ancient spirits, now lay before him. The divination text from the hexagram he cast before going to Egypt resurfaced in his mind.

"The deer approaches the hunting ground, entering deep into the forest. The gentleman hesitates—better to let go, for pressing forward brings regret."

Who was the deer? Who was the gentleman? Who... was to abandon whom...

"Tsk, Boss, it won't do to stay this dejected, you know!"" The golden scepter placed beside the Book of the Dead trembled slightly, and with a teasing voice, a wisp of white smoke rose, vaguely forming the figure of a young pharaoh—Ramesses II.

Although the pharaoh insisted his soul was powerful enough not to fade easily, the Boss had still infiltrated the Abu Simbel temple before leaving Egypt to retrieve the golden scepter as a vessel for the pharaoh's daily residence. This move proved wise, but over the past two months, the pharaoh hadn't appeared once, likely due to excessive soul energy depletion.

Setting down his now cold teacup, the Boss placed the kettle back on the small red clay stove to reheat it, ignoring the eccentric pharaoh. Unfazed, the pharaoh—having slept for a long time and only manifesting today due to regained soul energy—had awoken each time to see the Boss staring blankly at the Book of the Dead, easily guessing what was on his mind. Interest in an artifact that could summon spirits surely meant there was something he desired. Moreover, someone living alone for over two thousand years must be clinging to something.

For a moment, the pharaoh felt a twinge of jealousy; none of his followers had ever devotedly stayed with him for millennia. Glancing around the unfamiliar decor and peculiar arrangements in the Dumb Shop, he asked casually, "So, who is it you want to summon?"

The Boss's hand holding the official kiln tea caddy trembled, spilling some of the Tieguanyin tea leaves onto the counter as he poured them into the purple clay teapot. He paused briefly, swept away the scattered leaves, but didn't answer the pharaoh's question.

Frowning at being ignored again, the pharaoh drifted closer to the Boss, waving a hand to confirm he was still wearing the gilded earrings that translated language and could understand his words.

"Actually, summoning ancient spirits isn't that easy, you know! Besides a cherished artifact from their lifetime and a body compatible with the spirit, the most crucial point is..." The pharaoh deliberately drew out his words, but was disappointed to find the Boss showed no reaction, still calmly waiting for the water on the red clay stove to boil."Alright, the most crucial point is that this Book of the Dead already bears the imprint of my scepter. It can only summon my soul. Unless you can alter the imprint on this papyrus scroll, this Book of the Dead is nothing more than a worthless piece of paper." The Pharaoh sighed, ultimately unable to resist revealing the secret. He knew that giving someone unrealistic expectations was, in fact, the cruelest act.

A suffocating silence ensued. After a long while, the kettle began to gurgle, and boiling steam rushed frantically out of its spout.

Boss calmly picked up the kettle to brew tea, placed the lid on the teapot, and then serenely inhaled the aroma as it filled the air.

The Pharaoh's soul flickered in and out of visibility within the white steam until he finally heard a long sigh, followed by a relieved expression of gratitude.

"Huh? You were listening?" The Pharaoh pursed his lips in dissatisfaction, but then asked curiously, "But is there really a chance? If all the conditions are met, what would you choose?"

Boss took a light sip of tea, savoring the rich flavor as it spread across his lips and teeth, and sighed faintly, "This world is fair—to gain something, one must offer something of equal value in return." He paused, as if struggling with a difficult decision or steeling his resolve, "If the price is one I can afford, I will consider it. If it is beyond my means, I will let it go."

The Pharaoh pinched his chin, lost in thought.

Neither the human nor the ghost noticed the anomaly of the ferocious Golden Ghost Mask hanging on the opposite wall, swaying in the light of the Changxin Palace Lantern. Deep within its dark, hollow eye sockets, a faint glimmer of light flickered...

In a dimly lit burial chamber, empty and silent, only a sarcophagus with its lid open stood at the center, and an oil lamp burned faintly in the northeast corner, casting a weak glow. A small crimson bird perched on the edge of the sarcophagus, dozing with its eyes closed, until a pale, slender hand emerged from within. A man wearing a Golden Ghost Mask slowly sat up, supporting himself on the edge of the sarcophagus.

The man had long silver-white hair. He removed the Golden Ghost Mask covering his face, revealing an incomparably handsome countenance. His complexion, however, was somewhat pallid, as if he had not seen the sun for a long time. He slowly opened his eyes, revealing bewitching crimson pupils, and his entire demeanor shifted instantly. A faint, sinister smile curled on his thin lips.

The Crimson Dragon robe and the Golden Mask were a matched set of burial artifacts. There were two sets of the Crimson Dragon robe, and correspondingly, two Golden Masks. This was known only to the clan leaders of the Ying family through the generations—even his elder brother Fusu was unaware that the two Golden Masks possessed the supernatural ability to eavesdrop and spy. It was only after Huhai ascended the throne and gained the authority to access the treasures accumulated by the Ying family over centuries that he learned of this.

"The most beloved sacred artifact in life? That should be the jade tablet my elder brother never parted with in life—the very Longevity Lock now in my possession, broken into two pieces. I wonder if it can still function, shattered as it is? As for a compatible body..."

Huhai toyed with the Golden Ghost Mask in his hand, murmuring to himself.The doctor by that person's side had already tested the Nine Dragon Cup, but for some unknown reason, there was no reaction. As for that Lu Zigang... last time at the Liubo Chess Manor, he actually uttered words almost identical to what my imperial brother had said before his death. Could it really be a coincidence? Although that person knows Lu Zigang, their interactions aren't deep. But it might also be a diversion...

The little red bird woke from its daze and, upon opening its eyes, saw its master awake. It chirped happily twice, fluttering its wings as it flew onto Huhai's shoulder. Huhai stroked the little red bird's plumage and murmured, "Ming Hong, do you think that Lu Zigang could be my imperial brother's reincarnation?"

The little red bird was thoroughly enjoying its master's petting, half-closing its eyes and emitting meaningless chirps. Huhai didn't expect this little creature to give him any answers. He scratched its head and chuckled softly, "A brush that can modify any object... I do indeed still have one here. Go, fetch that brush for me."

With a chirp of acknowledgment, the little red bird flew off. The sound of its flapping wings gradually faded in the dark tomb passageway, only to return shortly after. When it rushed back into the tomb chamber, the airflow from its wings caused the oil lamp in the northeast corner to flicker several times, nearly extinguishing it.

Huhai took the brush from the little red bird's sharp beak, the smile at the corners of his lips gradually widening until he laughed silently a few times.

"This world is very fair—to gain something, one must exchange something of equal value?"

"Then, I'm willing to trade everything I have..."

"Imperial brother... wait for me..."

Lu Zigang put on his gloves, carefully lifted a long camphorwood box from the sterile container, then gently took out the scroll from inside. He meticulously unrolled the painting.

This was "Scene of Qiantang" by Tang Yin Bohu of the Ming Dynasty, painted on silk. However, due to being passed around over hundreds of years without proper preservation, many parts were damaged, and both the painting and seals had faded. Despite repairs by several experts, it still looked riddled with holes.

After examining it for a long while, Lu Zigang shook his head regretfully. Most of Tang Yin's paintings are collected in the Shanghai Museum, the Palace Museum, and the Taipei Museum. Moreover, the Tang Yin scrolls displayed in those museums are generally former collections of the Qing Dynasty's Palace Museum, meticulously cared for, with some even bearing appreciation seals of Kangxi and Qianlong, significantly increasing their value. This time, for the establishment of the National Museum, the Curator of the Painting and Calligraphy Hall used various connections to borrow a batch of scrolls from the Palace Museum. But as one might expect, what they received were mostly damaged pieces, entirely unsuitable for exhibition. Under such conditions, if hung in the exhibition hall and exposed to air for over a month, they would likely fade even more severely.

Was there really no solution? Lu Zigang furrowed his brow tightly. There were many similar calligraphy and painting works in this state—or rather, every museum has a large number of artworks that cannot be restored. Unlike bronzeware, jade, or gold and silver artifacts that are less prone to wear, calligraphy and paintings are even more fragile than porcelain. If handled with slightly too much force when taken out, they might turn to dust and vanish completely from this world.

Perhaps the Boss of Dumb Shop might have some method to prevent such regrets from happening?The thought flashed through Lu Zigang's mind, but he immediately shook his head with a bitter smile to dismiss it. He believed the Boss must have special methods, but it was impossible to apply them to all antiquities.

Just as a god cannot save all their followers.

After calming his emotions, Lu Zigang took this opportunity to carefully examine the "Scenery of Qiantang" painting once more. The painting depicted towering mountains with plank pathways, horses prancing gracefully, a solitary traveler sitting in a grass pavilion, and fishing boats drifting on the river. It bore Tang Yin's self-inscribed seven-character regulated verse and signature. Tang Yin, who called himself "the foremost talent of Jiangnan," was later famously known as Tang Bohu. Excelling in figure, landscape, and bird-and-flower paintings, he developed his own distinctive style. In this "Scenery of Qiantang," the rocks and trees followed the techniques of Southern Song artist Li Tang, with square, hard, and finely steep brushstrokes. The figures dotting the scenery appeared natural in form, exhibiting a delicate and refined style—likely from Tang Yin's early years before his skills had fully matured.

Lu Zigang admired the painting for a long while. Though reluctant to look away, he knew that even if he stared until flowers bloomed from the canvas, he couldn't restore its faded and damaged traces. Just as he was about to put the painting away, he sensed something amiss. The laboratory, which should have been empty except for him, now held another person. The man wore all white, and at first glance, one might mistake it for the standard lab coat everyone wore. But his white windbreaker had a hood, and a second look revealed the difference.

"How... did you get in?" Lu Zigang clenched his fist, then immediately relaxed it. Facing this silver-haired, crimson-eyed youth, he was utterly helpless. He couldn't forget what happened that night at the Liubo Chess manor—though it was just a nightmare, it had nearly become reality. "There are cameras everywhere..." Lu Zigang trailed off, realizing how pointless his words were. The lab required fingerprint access, and if that couldn't stop this person, the cameras were probably just for show.

Huhai ignored Lu Zigang's defensive hostility, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow as he asked, "You've been staring at this painting for so long. Do you want to restore it?"

Lu Zigang saw no reason to hide it and nodded frankly. "Yes, but it's too badly damaged. Even with remounting and repainting, it can't be fully repaired."

Huhai chuckled softly, a low, amused sound. "What if I said I have a way to restore it?"

Lu Zigang frowned warily. "What do you want in return?"

Huhai's bewitching crimson eyes glittered beneath his silver-white lashes. He laughed lightly, as if surprised. "Must one always offer something of equal value to gain something? It seems everyone knows this rule of equivalent exchange. Well, actually, I want the other half of the Blank Tablet back."

Lu Zigang started, recalling that the person who sold him the Blank Tablet in the Xi'an ghost market had worn a white windbreaker with a hood. "You were the one who sold me that half of the Blank Tablet?"

Huhai shrugged. "I know it's against the rules to ask for a sold antique back, but I only just found out—the Blank Tablet can't be rejoined. I thought you wouldn't be able to complete it!" His words were half-truths; in reality, this was entirely false. He merely needed an excuse to take Lu Zigang to the Dumb Shop.Seeing Huhai unwilling to elaborate, Lu Zigang sensed something was amiss. He recalled how his soul had traveled back to the golden age of the Tang Dynasty when he pieced together the two halves of the Blank Tablet, possessing the bodies of several people Wu Zetian had personally executed. At first, he could only observe without speaking, but when he finally inhabited Xue Huaiyi's body, he managed to converse with Wu Zetian across a millennium. What if there were lingering consequences...

This train of thought made Lu Zigang restless. Although he had traded his half of the Blank Tablet for the Wu knife he adored, he couldn't bring trouble to the Boss of Dumb Shop. Collecting himself, he decided to first observe how this Young Master Hu would restore the tattered "Scenery of Qiantang" scroll before him, leaving other concerns for later.

Huhai smiled faintly and produced a white-handled brush from his robe. The shaft, of unknown material, resembled ivory but was whiter, finer in texture, and softer in luster, devoid of any carvings—simple yet elegant. The bristles were also white, giving the impression of a new brush at first glance, but Lu Zigang felt it must be ancient.

"The shaft is polished from the palm bone of the mythical beast Baize, and the bristles are made from its tail hair," Huhai explained kindly as he approached.

"Baize?" Lu Zigang was speechless, thinking Huhai was joking. He knew of Baize—the legendary snow-white beast from Kunlun Mountain that could speak human language, understand all things, and rarely appeared. Legends said Emperor Huang encountered Baize by the East Sea, where the erudite beast compiled a compendium of 11,520 supernatural beings at the emperor's request. Baize was said to be a treasure trove with life-restoring properties—a truly formidable mythical beast from ancient lore. But no matter how formidable, it was still just a legend!

Huhai gazed calmly at the pristine brush, his pale eyelashes fluttering slightly. "Precisely because Baize was a walking treasure, it fell victim to its own value and swiftly vanished from this world, leaving only tales behind. They say it knew astronomy and geography, comprehended past and future—so why couldn't it foresee its own tragic fate?"

Lu Zigang detected hidden loneliness in his words and sighed. "Perhaps it knew all along..."

Huhai glanced sideways at Lu Zigang with his crimson pupils but didn't pursue the topic. "This brush, crafted from Baize's palm bone and hair, possesses the power to alter or restore any calligraphy or painting."

"Eh?" Lu Zigang's face was a canvas of disbelief.

Huhai smiled nostalgially. "Back then, when Zhao Gao forged my imperial father's posthumous edict, he used this very brush. Did you think all those court officials and generals were blind?"

Lu Zigang was stunned, then thought: This Young Master Hu must be too deep into cosplay. Calling himself Huhai is one thing, but now he's bringing Zhao Gao and Qin Shi Huang into it? Still, he kept his sarcasm to himself, treating it as a joke.Huhai didn't speak further. He gestured for Lu Zigang to step aside, then picked up an unopened bottle of mineral water from the table, poured it into a glass, dipped the Baize Brush lightly into it, and before Lu Zigang could react, began sweeping the brush across the scroll.

"Ouch!" Lu Zigang cried out in alarm, stunned by Huhai's swift movements. The moment the Baize Brush touched the paper, Lu Zigang felt his heart shatter. Even a damaged Tang Yin scroll was worth a fortune! If put up for auction, it could easily fetch eight figures—seriously!!! How could anyone be so calm and casual about this?! He simply couldn't handle it!!!

Lu Zigang never knew he had it in him to turn into a roaring madman, but just as he snapped back to reality and was about to push aside this reckless Young Master Hu at all costs, a glance at the painting on the table froze him in place as if he'd been struck by a paralysis point.

He saw the damaged scroll come back to life as if resurrected: the horse's mane in the painting became finely visible, seemingly swaying without wind; the plants along the Qiantang River regained their lush green, as if spring had returned to the earth; the missing characters of the quatrain reappeared in full; the blurred seal sharpened into clarity. Even more miraculously, the yellowish silk fabric restored to a fresh, light hue like new.

Lu Zigang widened his eyes, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Beside him, Huhai was intently bent over the painting, his handsome profile as exquisite as an elf from the artwork. His brushstrokes flowed smoothly, every movement exuding an ancient, noble elegance. For a dazed moment, it was as if Lu Zigang saw a nobleman in tall hat and broad sash, wielding his brush amidst pavilions and towers.

Lu Zigang blinked hard, and when he reopened his eyes, he found himself still in his familiar laboratory. Yet before him lay a brand-new "Scene of Qiantang."

It was genuinely new, identical to a freshly painted work, with ink that hadn't even fully dried. Had it not happened in the blink of an eye, he might have suspected Huhai had swapped the ancient painting with a forgery...

Lu Zigang was on the verge of losing his mind. Was this what "restoration" meant? There was practically no difference from destroying the painting, was there?!

Noticing Lu Zigang's contorted expression, Huhai chuckled amusedly and said, "Don't worry, I just used mineral water for this. Once it dries, it'll revert to its original state. This was just to show you a preview. If you want to restore it to the era you desire, that requires higher-quality ink—preferably ink from the Tinggui Inkstick, though very few of those have been passed down. Later Huizhou ink would barely suffice. We can look into it after retrieving the other half of the Blank Tablet."

Leaning on the table, Lu Zigang felt all his strength drain away.

This was no way to joke around! Damn it!

Since the next day was the weekend, after confirming that the "Scene of Qiantang" had indeed returned to its original state, Lu Zigang carefully stored it back in the sterile case. He planned to go home, pack his luggage, and then head straight to the airport with Huhai.

But Huhai wagged his finger and said, "No need for all that trouble."Lu Zigang felt a surge of confusion but before he could voice his question, he saw Huhai pull a yellow cloth from his pocket and hand him one corner, gesturing for him to hold it. Puzzled, Lu Zigang complied, but the moment his hand touched the fabric, the world suddenly spun around him. The sensation lasted only a second or two. When he regained his senses and reopened his eyes, he found that he and Huhai were no longer in the laboratory but standing in a dimly lit alley. The surrounding buildings were unmistakably in the Jiangnan style, and he could even hear someone bargaining in authentic Jiangzhe dialect from a nearby commercial street.

Lu Zigang opened his mouth but said nothing. It all felt too absurd—even the slightest speculation was immediately dismissed by his own mind as utterly unreasonable.

"We're here." Huhai announced naturally, shattering Lu Zigang's self-deception. Knowing Lu Zigang would definitely press for answers, he simply folded the cloth while explaining: "This is Zhang Jiao's Yellow Turban from the Yellow Turban Rebellion. As the founder of the Way of Great Peace, he did possess some magical abilities." Huhai paused, noticing Lu Zigang opening his mouth again, and felt somewhat displeased. He thought his explanation was clear enough, though it was just one sentence.

"Any more questions?" Huhai narrowed his crimson eyes, looking dangerously at Lu Zigang.

"I just remembered I haven't clocked out from work yet..."

"..." Young Master Hu immediately turned and walked away.

"Well... actually, after retrieving that half of the Blank Tablet, you could consider sending me back. That would save travel expenses..." Lu Zigang wisely hurried to catch up. As a Beijing drifter with meager monthly wages, every penny saved counted!

As soon as they stepped out of the alley, Lu Zigang saw Dumb Shop across the street, just like during his previous visit - the small seal script signboard and antique carved doors. Huhai strode over confidently and pushed against one carved door with a single hand, but contrary to Lu Zigang's expectation, it didn't swing open. Instead, it remained completely immovable.

Lu Zigang made a surprised sound. "Has it closed? But it doesn't seem like it." Normally when shops closed, wouldn't they be locked or have metal gates? He knocked on the door but received no response, then moved to the nearby window to peer inside. He remembered this window had transparent glass, but now it was completely fogged over, likely from the winter cold creating condensation that obscured everything. Only the faint, flickering glow from the Changxin Palace Lantern inside was visible. Unwilling to give up, he pressed against the crack between the carved doors, but found them so tightly sealed that nothing could be seen through them.

Huhai, however, showed no surprise and instead smiled. No one being here suited him perfectly. He knew these carved doors were unusual - they should be one of the inner doors from the Qin Mausoleum that person had moved out. Only the owner could enter; others couldn't push them open without the owner's permission. In the mausoleum, the owner had naturally passed away, so when the final craftsman closed the doors, no one should have been able to enter the mausoleum again. Back then, he had ordered that person to be buried alive, never expecting that having previously tasted the elixir of immortality, they didn't die but instead crawled out of the tomb, thus breaking the door's restriction. Now being used as the shop's door, as long as that person wasn't present, no one could casually enter Dumb Shop - truly more effective than any security door.

However, he had a method.

There were still small puddles from yesterday's rain on the ground. Huhai took out the Baize Brush from his robe, bent down to dip it in rainwater, then simply drew a door on the carved doors. Under Lu Zigang's stunned gaze, he gently pushed, and the "door" creaked open.

Huhai calmly walked through, then turned back to frown at Lu Zigang who stood rooted like a wooden stake. "Aren't you coming in? It will lose effect soon."Lu Zigang knew there must be something wrong with Huhai’s actions. Why insist on entering when the Boss wasn’t around? Clearly, he had ulterior motives—it definitely wasn’t just about reclaiming that half of the Blank Tablet. But at this moment, Lu Zigang absolutely couldn’t let Huhai go in alone. If he followed, at least he could try to stop him, right? Lu Zigang glanced around furtively, then slipped inside. Only after entering did it dawn on him—the Baize Brush in Huhai’s hand was truly formidable, almost like the legendary magic brush of Ma Liang! If this brush could draw a pistol, would it function as a real one? And if Huhai then threatened him into becoming an accomplice, would he comply? Or comply? Or… comply?

Lu Zigang was still wrestling with these thoughts when the carved wooden door behind him, its painted traces now dry, closed and instantly returned to its original state. Lu Zigang finally took in the layout of the Dumb Shop. It looked much the same as during his last visit, except for a few additional antiques. The Golden Ghost Mask on the wall appeared sinister and stern, while the Curio Cabinet now held a crystal-clear jade Nine Dragon Cup. On the counter lay a tattered scroll and an exquisitely crafted golden scepter. Judging by the style, they seemed to be ancient Egyptian—the tattered scroll beside it was likely the Book of the Dead, made from ancient Egyptian papyrus.

Strange, since when did the Boss start collecting foreign antiquities?

As Lu Zigang pondered this, he noticed Huhai casually glance at the painted terracotta warrior standing by the entrance, as if wary of it. But after detecting no unusual activity, Huhai strode to the counter, snatched the Book of the Dead and the golden scepter, and turned toward the inner chamber of the Dumb Shop. Lu Zigang realized things were spiraling in an unpredictable direction. A flicker of doubt arose in his mind: If Huhai wanted to do something, why go to such lengths to drag him along? He could have managed alone.

But now that events had unfolded this way, there was no backing out. Steeling himself, Lu Zigang followed Huhai inward. As they rounded the jade screen, a clear, melodious chirp echoed through the air. A small blue bird, trailing long tail feathers, flew out from the corridor and dove straight at Huhai.

Lu Zigang was startled, but Huhai remained motionless. Just as the blue bird’s sharp beak was about to pierce his eye socket, a bright fireball erupted in front of Huhai, forcing the bird to flap its wings, halt mid-air, and retreat slightly. Though it moved swiftly, its beautiful tail feathers were singed by the flames. The blue bird’s cries grew shriller, as if genuinely enraged.

The fireball then contracted, transforming into a small red bird that let out a defiant chirp before pouncing on the blue one. The two birds tangled in combat, blue and red feathers scattering wildly. With a sudden poof, both birds vanished simultaneously.

Lu Zigang’s pupils contracted. Had they annihilated each other? But aside from the scattered feathers of both colors, there were no bird carcasses on the ground! Though he wasn’t an expert on rare creatures, he knew these two birds were extraordinary spiritual beings—it would be a true pity if they died.

Huhai continued walking ahead. Without turning back, he spoke as if reading Lu Zigang’s mind, “They felt it was too cramped here, so they went elsewhere to settle their duel.”Change locations? Could those two little birds really teleport? Lu Zigang felt a bit dizzy. But with the precedent of Ma Liang's magical brush, he felt his ability to accept such things had become stronger. Just as he was about to step forward, he noticed a translucent beauty slowly materializing beside Huhai, as if trying to prevent him from proceeding further. The woman was dressed in luxurious ancient attire, with flowing long sleeves and jade-like fair skin, her eyes deep and enchantingly elongated. Her form was ethereal, as if floating in mid-air, and her silky hair seemed alive, drifting and swirling around her.

Lu Zigang rubbed his eyes. Was there a female ghost in the Dumb Shop? But when he looked more closely, he realized the ancient beauty was surrounded by wisps of candle smoke. Not far behind her was a small room, and through a narrow crack, he could see a red incense candle burning slowly, its rising smoke forming the exquisite ancient-clad woman.

Huhai paid no mind to the ancient beauty but found her lingering presence bothersome and uncomfortable. He pushed open the door to the room where the incense candle was placed. The Baize Brush in his hand still had some rainwater on it, so he deftly drew a transparent glass cover and placed it over the incense candle. Trapped inside, the candle smoke could no longer escape, and the ancient beauty outside gradually faded, vanishing into the air. Inside the glass cover, a smaller version of the ancient beauty appeared, pounding on the glass with her hands, her beautiful face filled with rage.

"Won't the candle go out quickly like this?" Lu Zigang felt uneasy. The moment the glass cover formed, cutting off the oxygen, the candle's flame shrank considerably, looking rather pitiful.

"No need to worry. The glass cover will disappear soon," Huhai explained calmly. He was very familiar with this type of mermaid candle—there were countless like it in the Qin Mausoleum's underground palace. Unless extinguished by the person who lit it, it would never go out. He cast a cold glance at the ancient beauty trapped inside the glass cover, and she, frightened by his gaze, shrank back into a corner of the enclosure, trembling.

Huhai didn't even spare her another glance and turned to leave. Lu Zigang, however, feared the candle might go out and wanted to remove the glass cover. But as soon as he moved, the glass cover vanished. The ancient beauty, now freed, didn't chase after Huhai but instead looked at Lu Zigang with fear and wariness, as if afraid he might do something to her.

Embarrassed, Lu Zigang realized he had been categorized as one of the bad guys. Unable to explain himself, he hurriedly muttered an apology and went after Huhai. But when he caught up, he found the corridors of the Dumb Shop pitch black, without a single source of light. Earlier, he had been able to see the candle-smoke beauty only because of the candle's glow. Now, he had to rely on the strange sounds ahead, following them as he moved forward. The interior of the Dumb Shop was deep, and he had no idea how many strange artifacts or mechanisms Huhai had dealt with along the way. When Lu Zigang saw light spilling from an open door at the end of the corridor, he strode toward it. Pausing at the doorframe to hesitate for a moment, he gritted his teeth and stepped inside.When he saw the scene inside the room, he was stunned. The room was as large as a classroom, and the source of light turned out to be over a dozen Night-Shining Pearls the size of basketballs, arranged in sequence along the walls. The blue bricks beneath his feet were also different from the ordinary ones in the corridor outside. These bricks were adorned with flawless carvings, inlaid with gold foil and various types of jade, so magnificent they were breathtaking. Following these bricks toward the center of the room, the carvings and lacquer paintings were exquisitely beautiful. On the lacquered table in the center lay a jade seal and a set of crown regalia.

Huhai had already walked to the lacquered table, swept aside his white robes, and sat down cross-legged. He set down the golden scepter in his hand and spread open the Book of the Dead.

Under the glow of the Night-Shining Pearls, Lu Zigang could see that the jade seal was carved with five intertwined dragons, with one corner missing and repaired with gold. Huhai now held the seal in his hand, and faintly visible beneath it were eight large characters in seal script, seemingly reading "Mandated by Heaven, Longevity and Eternal Prosperity"? The shape of the characters and the carving style... Could this be the legendary Heirloom Seal of the Realm? As for the crown regalia, it was a Tongtian Crown, nine inches tall, standing upright with a slightly slanted top, supported by an iron scroll beam. At the front were mountain motifs, scrolls, and narratives—clearly, this was a crown only an emperor could wear!

Regardless of the origins of this Tongtian Crown, the Heirloom Seal of the Realm was recorded in historical texts! Could this be the real one? Lu Zigang felt confused. Could the Boss of the Dumb Shop really be so powerful as to possess the long-lost Heirloom Seal of the Realm? Moreover, the room was distinctly in the style of the Qin Dynasty. Lu Zigang began to despairingly consider that everything here might be authentic Qin Dynasty antiques, down to every brick and tile.

By now, Lu Zigang was completely certain that Huhai had not come for the so-called half of the Blank Tablet. With a growing sense of foreboding, he asked, "What exactly do you want?" Logically, a thief would leave immediately after succeeding, but Huhai didn’t seem like he was here to steal anything. Huhai didn’t answer him. Instead, he quietly bowed his head, gazing at the Heirloom Seal of the Realm in his hand as if reminiscing or recalling something.

"To resurrect someone, I suppose." A teasing voice suddenly echoed in the room, spoken with an awkward accent, stumbling as if by a foreigner just learning Chinese.

Lu Zigang turned toward the sound and saw a wisp of white smoke rising from the golden scepter, gradually forming the outline of a handsome young man in the air. His features were deep, his upper body bare, and his attire indicated he was likely a person of great authority in ancient Egypt. Having been forewarned by Zhu, Lu Zigang showed no surprise at the sight of this gentleman. He quickly inquired, "Resurrect? Is it really possible to bring the dead back to life? How would one do that?"

The young Pharaoh had recently been pestered by Zhu about how to resurrect someone. Without the Boss's gilded earrings to bridge the language barrier, the two from different cultures couldn't communicate effectively. However, through frequent contact, the clever Pharaoh had picked up a little Chinese—though only a little, and he couldn't manage anything beyond that. He spoke a string of ancient Egyptian, but seeing Lu Zigang's blank expression, he fell silent and instead looked at him with pity.This innocent young man was undoubtedly a sacrificial offering brought by the red-eyed youth, destined to become a vessel for the dead spirit's possession.

The young Pharaoh licked his lips, a flicker of amusement passing through his amber eyes as he murmured to himself: "Oh! The Boss has returned too. This should be entertaining!"

Lu Zigang listened without comprehension...

Huhai didn't understand either, but having already known the situation, he showed no reaction. Whether that person would come or not wouldn't change the outcome now.

The Doctor had drunk some alcohol tonight. With group buying being the recent trend—cheap and cost-effective—he'd followed the crowd and purchased a barbecue meal for two, naturally dragging the Boss along. The food was decent enough, but the two large mugs of draft beer that came with the meal went entirely undrunk by the Boss, so the Doctor had downed them all himself. Though the cold wind outside had sobered him up somewhat, the alcohol's effects were still rising. The Boss suggested returning to the Dumb Shop for some sobering tea.

As they walked and talked, they soon arrived at the shop's entrance. The Boss reached to push open the door as usual, but the moment his fingers touched the carved wooden door, he abruptly withdrew his hand.

"What's wrong?" The Doctor noticed the sharp glint that flashed across the Boss's face, growing increasingly uneasy. The Boss smiled nonchalantly and said, "I just remembered there's something I haven't done yet. I won't invite you in for tea tonight." With that, he pushed open the carved wooden door, entered alone, showing no intention of inviting the Doctor inside, and moved to close the door.

The Doctor swiftly braced against the door and squeezed through the gap, using his drunken state to act unruly: "No way! You promised me tea—no backing out!" As he spoke, he noticed his palm was damp. It hadn't rained today, so why was the Dumb Shop's wooden door so wet?

The Boss clearly hadn't expected the Doctor's sudden stubbornness. But by then he'd already seen the empty counter—the Book of the Dead and golden scepter that had been placed there were gone—so he had no time to worry about whether the Doctor had followed him in, immediately checking around for any other missing or damaged antiques.

Seeing the Boss's troubled expression, the Doctor was about to ask when a white figure rushed out from the inner room—it was Zhu, materialized from candle smoke. Her beautiful face was filled with terror as she repeatedly cried out: "He's here! He's come!"

"Who? Who's here?" The Doctor was baffled, completely lost. But the Boss's expression turned stern as he tried to push the Doctor back out the door. The Doctor grabbed his wrist firmly and asked in a low voice, "What's going on? You know I can't possibly leave you alone at a time like this."

The Boss deeply regretted his momentary carelessness that had allowed the Doctor inside. Otherwise, with the carved wooden door closed, he wouldn't have been able to enter. All he could do now was prevaricate: "It's just a petty thief who stole a few things. I'll handle it—wait here for a bit."

The Doctor frowned, unconvinced by the Boss's explanation. Just looking at Zhu's panicked expression told him this was no ordinary thief. But he didn't want to distract the Boss either, so he pretended sudden understanding: "Alright then, go ahead. I'll rest here for a while." With that, he loosened his necktie and slumped into a nearby huanghuali recliner, leaning to one side and closing his eyes to rest.The Boss saw him seemingly overcome by the effects of alcohol. Though somewhat suspicious, the urgency of the situation left no time to dwell on it, and he hurriedly followed Zhu into the inner room of the Dumb Shop. After he left, the Doctor opened his eyes and began pondering what to do.

Judging by the situation, the little thief hadn't left yet—perfect for catching a turtle in a jar! An ordinary person would call the police immediately in such circumstances, right? But the Doctor hesitated, pulling out his phone from his pocket. Based on his experience in the Dumb Shop, he felt calling the police was inadvisable and would only complicate matters. Still, he couldn't rest easy. Unconsciously, he touched the cross around his neck—a pale blue jade Christ figure that the Boss had given him a few days prior. He remembered this aquamarine jade was originally the one Xiao Ji had owned. The Boss had said it didn't fit the antique style of the Dumb Shop and had tossed it to him. Yet the Doctor found it strange; the Boss never gave him things without reason. If something was happening, he could at least lend a hand, couldn't he? So the Doctor quietly stood up and headed toward the inner room as well.

Lu Zigang was anxious. He instinctively knew Huhai was up to no good but had no idea what to do. Ignoring the Pharaoh chattering in ancient Egyptian beside him, he went straight to the lacquered table and asked worriedly, "Young Master Hu, what are you doing?"

"Perfect timing. Lend me the Wu knife." Huhai set down the Heirloom Seal of the Realm and directly reached into Lu Zigang's pocket to retrieve the Wu knife.

Lu Zigang was startled. Since obtaining the Wu knife, he had always carried it with him, and he had come this time intending to return it in exchange for the half of the Blank Tablet. He hadn't expected Huhai to take it so boldly without asking. Just as he was about to express his displeasure tactfully, Lu Zigang was surprised to see Huhai expressionlessly draw the Wu knife across his own palm, causing blood to flow freely.

"You! The Wu knife must not see blood! The Boss specifically warned me!" Lu Zigang stamped his foot in agitation, immediately snatching the Wu knife back from Huhai and meticulously wiping it over and over.

"Don't be so superstitious." Huhai paid no heed, taking out the Baize Brush to dip into the blood from his palm. He smeared it across the Book of the Dead, and after a moment, the previously tattered book restored to a brand-new state, its text as fresh as if newly written. This spectacle drew amazed clicks of the tongue from the observing Pharaoh.

Huhai noticed that as the Book of the Dead was restored, a mark appeared in the upper right corner. Comparing it with the golden scepter, he found the emblems matched. He then used the Baize Brush again to slightly predate the restoration of the Book of the Dead, continuing until the scepter's mark completely vanished. After that, he directly picked up the nearby Heirloom Seal of the Realm, coated it fully with the blood from his palm, and without hesitation pressed it onto the Book of the Dead.

Watching the eight seal-script characters "Mandated by Heaven, Longevity and Eternal Prosperity" appear on the Book of the Dead, Huhai smiled with satisfaction. Then, as if hesitating, he pulled out a silk handkerchief from his chest.

Lu Zigang had been watching Huhai intently without letting his guard down. Now, as the handkerchief unfolded to reveal a jade Longevity Lock broken into two halves, he froze on the spot as if struck by a punch.

He clearly had never seen this Longevity Lock before, so why did it feel so familiar? It was as if he could trace every pattern on it in vivid detail within his heart...Huhai naturally noticed his reaction, feeling even more certain in his heart. He immediately used the "Long Life and Hundred Years" side of the Longevity Lock, stained it with his own blood, and without another word pressed it onto the Book of the Dead.

"What are you doing?"

Following the voice, Huhai saw the Boss walking toward him, unable to conceal his anger. He triumphantly raised the Book of the Dead in his hand and said, "What am I doing? You should know, right?"

The Pharaoh quickly shifted the blame aside, saying, "I did nothing and said nothing! And look at me—do I look like I could stop him? Tsk, he actually prepared two objects. He must have been afraid one wouldn't work, so he went with two."

Boss noticed that there were indeed two imprints on the Book of the Dead and felt a glimmer of hope. "Can the Book of the Dead summon two souls at once? That shouldn't be possible, right?"

The Pharaoh spread his hands. "I've never tried it myself, so asking me is useless. But there are only a few of us here. I have no body, yours isn't suitable, and this person's body is rather peculiar. Only this young man here is a match. So even if two souls are summoned, only one can awaken. The Book of the Dead has a limited range—once you leave this room, it's harmless." He had wanted to warn the young man earlier, but unfortunately, the youth didn't have Boss's gilded earrings and couldn't understand what he was saying.

Hearing this, Boss immediately wanted Lu Zigang to leave. But when he reached out to pull him, he noticed Lu Zigang's eyes were fixed intently on the Longevity Lock on the lacquered table. No matter how hard he tugged, there was no response.

Huhai paid no attention to their conversation, his crimson eyes fixed on the Book of the Dead in his hands, watching as the bloodstains slowly dried.

Boss was about to drag Lu Zigang away by force when, before he could exert any strength, he saw Lu Zigang's face turn pale and he fainted on the spot. Boss barely managed to catch his arm, preventing him from collapsing to the ground. At the same time, a heavy thud echoed from the corridor outside.

Boss inwardly cursed—it must be Doctor, worried about him, who had secretly followed. He hurriedly laid Lu Zigang on the floor and rushed out of the room, only to find Doctor unconscious outside the door. Panic-stricken, Boss exclaimed, "Didn't you say it would be fine once we left this room?"

The Pharaoh scratched his cheek sheepishly. "A minor miscalculation should be within acceptable limits, right...?"

Huhai, who had been waiting eagerly beside Lu Zigang, frowned when he saw Boss carrying in another unconscious person. Why were there two? But then it occurred to him—if his imperial brother could choose either one, it might not be such a bad thing.

Boss laid Doctor on the floor but couldn't bear to let him lie on the cold brick. He sat cross-legged and gently rested Doctor's upper body on his lap. Once he had settled him temporarily, he lifted his head and fixed a cold gaze on Huhai, enunciating each word clearly: "Leave the Heirloom Seal of the Realm here."

Huhai knew exactly where this man's limits lay. Though he had once been obsessed with the Heirloom Seal of the Realm, to him now, it was nothing more than a lifeless object. So he placed the seal back on the lacquered table. However, noticing that Boss was still staring at the Longevity Lock clutched in his other hand, Huhai curled his lip and said, "I took this from my imperial brother's coffin. You have no right to demand it from me."

Boss knew that Doctor had placed the shattered Longevity Lock inside the Qinling Mausoleum's coffin chamber back then. He hadn't stopped him then, and now he had no grounds to reclaim it. He withdrew his gaze and fell silent.Huhai noticed that Boss made no comment about his intrusion, yet he remained inwardly tense. He knew this man all too well—the quieter he appeared on the surface, the more deeply he cared. Today’s affair would not end peacefully. A sinister smile curled Huhai’s thin lips as he sneered, "Don’t act like that. I merely did what you wished to do yourself. Can you deny it?"

Boss’s hand, which had been removing the doctor’s glasses, paused, then trembled almost imperceptibly.

What he wished to do?

No, it wasn’t like that.

He had never dared to seal Fusu’s coffin, dressing him in the Red Dragon Robe that preserved the body from decay, clinging to the faint hope that Fusu might one day open his eyes again. Yet he knew it was nothing but his own desperate delusion.

Following Fusu’s reincarnations was his attempt to spare his soul the agony of dying young lifetime after lifetime, to prevent each set of loved ones from enduring the torment of separation.

He was only atoning. Why was he the sole survivor?

They had once vowed to build the Qin Empire’s golden age together, to end the people’s suffering and displacement… But he had been too powerless, failing to protect even one person who mattered.

Now, after two thousand years, he remained unchanged—still incapable of safeguarding those he swore to protect.

The world was fair: to gain something, one must offer equal value in return… But he had never intended to exchange the person in his arms for another…

Seeing Boss’s clenched fists, Huhai mistook it as confirmation of his words and smirked triumphantly. As he prepared to speak again, a groan from the figure at his feet caught his attention. He quickly bent down, lifting the man to rest against his chest. When those eyes fluttered open, Huhai’s emotions surged uncontrollably. His lips parted to call out "Imperial Brother," but sudden cowardice stole his voice.

When Lu Zigang opened his eyes, he saw Huhai supporting him while clutching a shattered Longevity Lock. Dazed, he remained silent for a long moment.

The Pharaoh, who had been observing with amusement, drifted over and cheerfully asked, "Well? How do you feel? Any pain or discomfort?" He treated Lu Zigang as an experimental subject.

Rubbing his throbbing temples, Lu Zigang felt fragmented memories crowding his mind—chaotic and unbearable. An irritating voice buzzed in his ears like a fly. He snapped impatiently, "I told you I don’t understand you! Why keep shouting? Wait—what happened to me? I remember everything going black before I fainted… And now there’s so much in my head. Xia Zelan? Who’s that?... No… This name feels… important."

Huhai froze at these words, shoving Lu Zigang away to stare at him in disbelief.

Lu Zigang paid no heed, gazing blankly at the Longevity Lock in his hand as memories flickered through his mind like a rapid film reel.

But Boss, upon hearing the name Xia Zelan, suddenly understood: Huhai had indeed used the Longevity Lock to summon a soul—and it happened to be Lu Zigang’s past incarnation. He urgently turned to question the Pharaoh."Oh? So it's a case of reincarnation? Then the summoned soul would directly merge with the current body, merely adding a set of memories. This young man is truly fortunate!" The Pharaoh was surprised, though not envious. He was an independent individual—if forced to merge with another soul, he would no longer be himself.

Boss, however, found hope in the Pharaoh's words. Looking down at the Doctor in his arms, he asked tentatively, "What if... what if..." The Pharaoh studied the Doctor in his embrace and shook his head. "This one won't do. His original soul is already incomplete, making him prone to attracting strange entities. If the Book of the Dead succeeds in its summoning, his soul will surely be expelled from this body—even if it's his past life, it wouldn't work."

"Then what if I destroy the Book of the Dead now?" Boss darkened his expression and waved a hand. The Book of the Dead on the lacquered table flew into his grasp as if manipulated by an invisible force.

The Pharaoh shrugged indifferently. "I have no more use for it anyway—do as you please. But I must warn you: the summoning is already in effect. If you destroy the Book of the Dead now, you might save the person in your arms, but the summoned spirit will immediately turn to ashes."

Boss's heart clenched, his hands freezing mid-motion as he prepared to tear the book apart.

"In other words, you can only choose one of the two," the Pharaoh stated bluntly.

"The deer is compared to the Yu, only entering the deep forest. The nobleman hesitates, better to abandon the chase, lest he meet misfortune." So... this is the choice it referred to?

Who is the deer?

Who is the nobleman?

Who must... abandon whom...

"Bi Zhi...?" A voice, as if echoing from a distant time and space, suddenly arose.

Boss's hands trembled violently. Bi Zhi was his courtesy name, given to him by that person.

He still remembered that day when they were practicing calligraphy in the study. Flipping through the Book of Songs, he had secretly envied how that person's name was derived from "On the mountain grows the mulberry tree; By the marshes, the lotus flower," from "Shan You Fusu" in the Airs of Zheng. Unexpectedly, noticing this, that person said since his name was Luo, he would give him the courtesy name Bi Zhi, taken from "The mandarin ducks fly, Bi Zhi captures them, Luo Zhi nets them" from "Xiao Ya" in the Book of Songs.

No one had called him by that name in a very, very long time.

Boss fell into a daze, faintly hearing someone chuckle softly by his ear: "Bi Zhi, why did you cut your hair?"

Blinking, Boss looked down at the person lying across his lap and met a pair of profound eyes—unobstructed by glasses, yet as gentle and timeless as they were over two thousand years ago.

He said, "Bi Zhi, it's been a long time."

(End of Chapter)